Chapter 25
Melissa was denied parole again the next year.
And the year after that.
She served every single day of her four-year sentence.
Plus an extra six months for the restraining order violation.
When she finally got out, she moved to Oregon.
Changed her last name.
Got a job doing graphic design for a small company.
I found out from a background check the lawyer ran every six months, just to be safe.
She never contacted us.
Never violated the restraining order again.
Maybe she’d finally learned.
Maybe she was just tired of fighting.
Maybe she’d realized we were never gonna be the easy target she thought we were.
Whatever the reason, she stayed away.
And that was all that mattered.
Mom moved to Florida.
Bought a little condo on the golf course.
Tried to contact me once a year, like clockwork.
On my birthday.
On the kids’ birthdays.
At Christmas.
Always the same email.
*I’m still here. I’m still in therapy. I still love you. I still hope you’ll give me a chance one day. Love, Mom.*
I never replied.
Never opened them more than once.
Just deleted them.
Blocked each new address she used.
Some people would say I was cruel.
That she was my mother.
That I should forgive her.
That life was too short to hold grudges.
But those people hadn’t read her handwriting in the margins of that speech.
They hadn’t heard her call my son fair game.
They hadn’t sat in a courtroom while she tried to take my children away.
They didn’t get a vote.
This was my life.
My kids’ lives.
May you like
And I got to decide who was in it.
And who wasn’t.
